


You Can Run Away With Me Anytime You Want

by KilljoyUnicorn



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Annoyed!Kobra, Confused!Pete, Danger Days AU, Danger Days Era, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, Fluff, I Just Really Love Pete Wentz, I am Petekey trash, I am also Frerard trash, M/M, MY VERY GAY CHOICES, Please Love me, Resting Bitch Face!Kobra Kid, Wait one more, and this is the result, guys really just stop kissing already, killjoys, ok I think that's enough tagging for today, okay done now I promise, this is my life and these are my choices, way too much pda: starring party poison and fun ghoul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4735295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KilljoyUnicorn/pseuds/KilljoyUnicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Pete sees a chance to get the hell out of Battery City, he takes it. What he didn't expect was... this. Namely, this colorful, weird as fuck band of... weirdos. Hiding out in the desert. Shooting stuff and plotting the downfall of BL/industries. </p>
<p>And he certainly did not foresee a certain blonde-haired, resting bitch-faced, kind of really hot Killjoy. </p>
<p>This should be interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alpha Dog

**Author's Note:**

> After a long hiatus (but not as long as Fall Out Boy's, thank the gods,) my friend has ~finally~ written another fanfiction. She lovingly shouted "POST THIS SHIT!" into my ear. Goodbye hearing. 
> 
> So- here it is. There WILL be more chapters, do not fear, young fluffs. I will annoy her constantly for another chapter within the next few weeks. 
> 
> Also the tags are shameless. Never lock two fangirls in a room together with access to a03 and pizza bagels. 
> 
> (Thanks for reading! Anyone who comments, likes, or favorites will receive a virtual baby chicken and our undying love. -the author/very good friend who is posting this for her)
> 
> Title from a lyric from the MCR song Summertime.

Of all the things to hate about Battery City, the worst by far, Pete decided, was the smell.  
Motor oil and sewage and sweat and fear, always the unmistakable scent of fear, of shadows and alleys and running away.  
Pete grimaced and pulled his scarf up around his nose, the thin fabric fluttering in the warm, rancid breeze. And here he’d thought he’d found the one little corner of the Lobby where the stench wasn’t quite so unbearable.  
Apparently not.  
Hunkering down a little farther into the overhang of the abandoned shop, Pete glanced up and down the street. The only movement was the distant flickering of light in the tall, silver buildings that rose above the city, like knives poised to fall, unmoving clouds impaled on their spires.   
Oooh, that’s good. Pete’s fingers itched for a pen, or better yet, a can of paint, to spray lyrics across blank windows and empty walls.   
Of course, that instinct was the reason he was here, on the ruined outskirts of the city, waiting for a getaway driver he wasn’t entirely sure would show up.   
He was getting kind of bored, actually. And the lingering odor of ozone and burnt rubber in the air wasn’t helping his mood.   
Pete turned his head, intending to look down the other side of the street, and only barely bit back a startled shout. A person had materialized besides him.   
She leaned back and regarded Pete coldly, silent. He exhaled slowly, taking in her appearance.   
The young woman was dressed entirely in black- black jacket, black skirt, black fishnet tights, black boots. Even her hair was black- pulled back into a shining, sleek ponytail- and her eyes glittered darkly from a sharp, pale face. She was beautiful, but she reminded Pete of a raven- all sly, icy intelligence. When she spoke, her voice was coolly nonchalant.   
“You’re the guy?”   
Pete suddenly felt very young, in his bulky grey sweatshirt and BL/ind issue headphones.   
“Um, yeah, I’m the guy. My name’s Pete.”  
The woman looked him up and down, slowly, before nodding curtly.   
“I’m Lyn-Z.”   
Introductions seemingly out of the way, she turned and set off down the street, looking back over her shoulder and raising one pencil-thin eyebrow when Pete didn’t immediately follow. He scrambled after her, trailing slightly behind as she wove agilely through the twisting streets of Battery City’s underworld.   
Lyn-Z moved like water, seeming to glide through the smog, boots clicking on the uneven pavement. She finally stopped at a nondescript white van, the BL/ind logo prominent on the dingy paint.   
“Get in.” She indicated the passenger side.   
Pete got in.   
Lyn-Z slid into the driver’s seat, reaching into the back and digging out two black helmets. She tossed one to Pete and settled one on her own head. Pete copied her.   
Without a word, Lyn-Z started the van, steering them off down a side street and into one of the many tunnels that led outside the city.   
Pete marveled at how easy it all seemed. A lifetime of dreaming of escaping this stinking, cluttered heap, and it turned out to be as simple as a few strategic whispers in the right ears and a getaway car.   
“So, Pete.” Lyn-Z’s voice cut through the rumble of the engine. “What’s your story?”  
Pete looked over, surprised. Lyn-Z looked calmly back at him, fingers tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel. Waiting.   
“Uh, not much of a story really. I grew up in the Lobby. Parents died when I was eight- routine population control, you know. Lived here and there for a while. Er, kind of got busted for some graffiti. Thought it was probably a good idea to get myself out of the city before the powers-that-be caught up.”   
Lyn-Z nodded. There was a beat of silence.   
“I’m sorry about your parents.”  
“Oh, um. Thanks.”  
Another short.   
“So, uh, what’s yours? Story, I mean.”   
Lyn-Z looked amused. “Nothing too interesting.”  
Pete doubted that, but he could sense that Lyn-Z wasn’t actually going to answer him, so he turned his gaze to the road ahead.   
They drove without speaking through the tunnel, pale light flickering weakly from scattered light bulbs.  
After a few minutes, Lyn-Z turned on the radio. A sudden, static-ridden voice droned through the usual news and announcements, ending with a bland, “The aftermath is secondary. BL/industries hopes you have a good day, and remember, fear protects you.”   
And then, Pete remembers, the moment that led to the rest of his life.   
A S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W bulletin crackled over the radio. “Attention. A white utility van has been stolen and is believed to be located in Tunnel 3F, heading towards the zones. 2000 carbon reward for the unit that retrieves the van.”   
Lyn-Z swore colorfully, flipping off the radio and craning her neck to look in the rear-view mirror. Now that he was listening, Pete could hear sirens in the distance, growing steadily louder.   
“Crap,” Lyn-Z muttered, “This might get a little sticky, dude. Hang on.”   
Pete barely even had time to process her warning before Lyn-Z was stepping hard on the gas with one black-booted heel, sending the van surging towards the spot of light that indicated the end of the tunnel.   
Pete’s head was thrown painfully against the back of his seat, and for the first time, he was glad for the heavy helmet. The sirens were increasing in volume, coupled with the screeching of the van’s tires as Lyn-Z pushed the engine to it limit.  
And all Pete could think was… awesome.   
He held on for dear life as Lyn-Z swerved across the tunnel, her face white and determined behind her helmet. Bullets ricocheted off the walls, hitting the van with dull pings. The light grew brighter, and Pete could see a glimpse of reddish sands.   
And then they were out of the tunnel and under the widest piece of sky Pete had ever seen. The sun- the sun- filled the huge expanse of dust and air with light, and, Pete thought, almost giddily, like someone had ripped the lid off the box he had been curled up in his entire life. So this was what it was supposed to look like.   
And that was the moment a bullet hit the van’s tire.   
“Crap!” Lyn-Z was already kicking her door open, gesturing frantically for Pete to follow her as the van stuttered to a stop. “C’mon, c’mon! We’re almost there!”  
Pete fumbled with the passenger door, nearly falling out of the van when it finally opened. He regained his footing and scrambled after Lyn-Z who was sprinting away from the road and into the desert.   
They ran and ran, hearing the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W’s boots clomping behind them, closer and closer.   
Lyn-Z turned, quick as a viper, and slid a black ray gun from her boot, firing at the black and white masks behind them. Two S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/Ws dropped to the ground, but Pete could see more in the distance, coming swiftly towards them.   
Lyn-Z muttered something under her breath, then turned to Pete, her dark eyes fierce.   
“You need to go. Keep running towards that mountain. They’ll find you. I’ll hold the ‘Crows off.”  
“You can’t-”  
“Yes, I can. Go!” Lyn-Z turned back around, then looked over her shoulder at Pete, a hint of a smile on her blood-red lips.   
“Oh, and tell Poison I said hi. Now go!”  
Pete went.


	2. When The Day Met The Night

Pete was starting to question… well, pretty much everything. This desert, man. Once the initial rush of “holy crap there’s fresh air and sunlight and colors and warmth this is the best thing ever” wore off, the desert was hot.  
Really, really hot.  
Not to mention annoying.  
Pete mumbled profanities under his breath as he stumbled through scrawny bushes, tripping over tree roots and stubbing his toes on rocks. He had lost count of the hours he had been walking- could have been two, could have been ten. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. His mind was fuzzy, and the image of Lyn-Z firing at the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/Ws wavered behind his eyes like a heat mirage.  
It was hot. So goddamn hot.  
Pete slumped to the ground, resting his head against a large rock, and blinked blearily at the burning blue sky. It couldn’t hurt to just take a nap, he reasoned. Just one little nap, and then he’d get up and go to the mountain and be found by the mysterious people Lyn-Z had been talking about and he’d be fine. Absolutely fine. Just peachy, in fact.  
He was asleep five seconds after he closed his eyes. 

Voices filtered through the fog in Pete’s head, indistinguishable at first but getting clearer, closer. He struggled into wakefulness, disoriented, shaking away the remains of a vague dream of fire, and a man with vivid yellow eyes and blood on his face.  
“Is he dead?”  
“Looks like it. Yo, Kobra. Go check it out.”  
“Make Ghoul go check it out.”  
“Hell no. The last time you told me to check a body, I got bitten by a snake and couldn’t remember my own name for a week. It’s your turn.”  
“No.”  
“Kobra. C’mon.”  
“...Fine.”  
Heavy footsteps made their way towards Pete, and his eyes flew open.  
There was a tall, thin figure standing over him, silhouetted by the brilliant sun. At first, Pete’s blurry mind thought that the person’s head was enormous, but after a few seconds, he realized that they were, in fact, wearing a helmet. Great job, Pete.  
From behind the helmet, a voice spoke. “Nah, he’s alive.” It sounded bored.  
Pete blinked. There seemed to be little else to do in this situation.  
From behind the helmeted guy came another voice, this one equally bored but with a sharp edge of exasperation. “For Destroya’s sake, Kobra, help him up or somethin’. We gotta go.”  
Pete couldn’t see the stranger’s eyes behind his helmet- the visor of which read GOOD LUCK in large white letters-, but he got the very distinct impression that he had rolled his eyes. Reaching out one black-gloved hand, he pulled Pete to his feet, demonstrating surprising strength for someone so skinny. Pete thought idly that he’d be hard to take in a fight.  
And then the stranger flipped open the visor on his helmet, and Pete stopped thinking anything at all.  
*Oh, I think I fell in love again…*  
Pete had always been the kind of person to fall headphones over heels in a a matter of minutes, but this was surely a new personal record. Just… wow.  
Unimpressed hazel eyes, blonde hair partially covering his forehead, and a skeptical twist to a flawless mouth, not to mention bone structure that would make DaVinci weep. Pete had stumbled across the single most attractive being in the universe, he was sure of it.  
“Hey, kid. You gonna stare at my little brother all day, or can we get going?”  
Pete was startled out of his appreciation for the stranger’s face at the sound of the second one’s voice, seeming more annoyed than before. He managed to tear his eyes away from those gorgeous lips, now definitely smirking, and focused on the small group of people waiting a few feet behind him.  
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Pete muttered, lifting his head to address the man who had spoken. He was shorter, paler, with brilliant red hair and a yellow mask. He gave off the air of being the leader of the group. Same eyes as his brother, but with a different kind of light in them. Besides him, an even shorter man with shoulder-length black hair and a sly grin fidgeted with a green ray gun, glancing between Pete and the redhead. His eyes were completely different than the other two- bright, flashing with manic energy and, well… Pete had seen enough to recognize pure crazy when he saw it.  
Behind the two of them stood another man, with huge, curly brown hair and a stoic expression, all in black and with eyes hidden by aviator sunglasses. He had been quiet through the entire exchange, and merely raised one eyebrow when Pete glanced his way.  
The red-haired man cleared his throat impatiently. “While I’d really like for us to all sit down all criss-cross-applesauce and talk about our feelings, we really do need to get back to base. You’re obviously the guy we were sent here to bring back, so c’mon, we don’t have all day.”  
Pete nodded, still dazed the heat. His head was swimming, but it was obvious that he didn’t have much of a choice about whether or not to go with these people. It was either that, or stay here to die of sunstroke. Tough choice, really.  
The red-haired guy seemed satisfied, turning on his heel to leave and beckoning for Pete to follow. Pete was about to oblige, when the glorious blond stranger spoke.  
“Hey Poison, wait a sec.”  
Poison turned around, eyes flashing in annoyance. “What?”  
The man took a step closer to Pete, tilting his head slightly to the side. His face was impassive, but Pete thought he could detect a flicker of expression in his eyes- of what, he didn’t know- when he spoke.  
“What’s your name, city slicker?”  
“Um, Pete. My name’s Pete Wentz.”  
There was definitely a hint of a smile in the guy’s face. Definitely. Pete was not making that up.  
“Nice to meet you, Pete. I’m Kobra Kid. The redhead over there is my brother, Party Poison, the tiny one’s Fun Ghoul, and Jet Star’s the cool cat with the ‘fro.”  
Kobra Kid. Pete could get used to hearing that.  
From behind Kobra, Party Poison rolled his eyes. “Great, now we’ve all been introduced. It’s like a cute little AA meeting out here. Follow me, Pete Whatever-your-name-is.” He turned on one heel and stalked away, heading towards a beat-up Trans Am stopped about twenty yards away. Kobra and Jet Star followed him. Fun Ghoul winked at Pete, flashed a grin, and bounced after them, calling “You coming, crash queen?”  
Pete thought about hot sunshine. Snakes. Dirt. The sharp angle of Kobra’s jawline when he turned his head to the side, the faint amusement in his eyes.  
Pete thought, I’m so screwed, and followed the four strangers back to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, everyone! First off, I'm sorry about the late update. School, responsibilities, blah blah. But hey, NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow, so I'll actually have an excuse to write more. Secondly: HALLOWEEN. Who/what are you guys dressing up as? Comment your costume if you'd like, we'd love to hear about them! Thrill Killer (the owner of this account) and I (the author of this fic) are going as Killjoys because we're obsessed fangirls. I even made myself a mask that looks like the kid's facepaint from the AB/AP cover art... I'll stop now. 
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments! As always, my undying gratitude to all those who already have, or will, or are considering doing so. I love you guys, and your encouragement thus far has been awesome. Thank you very much, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll update within the next month, promise!  
> ~Crash Fire


End file.
